War Of The Wimps
by ronXbouillabase
Summary: Oneshot. Comedy. AU. Ignores Book 7....In which Harry is slightly gay and probably smoking something, Voldemort is a complete idiot, and Bellatrix confesses her true feelings. Ooh, and don't forget the Ed Westwick references.


**War Of The Wimps**

A/N: I wrote this three months ago, and found it on my computer randomly. Weird, eh?

IGNORES BOOK 7.

Comedy (I hope you laugh….) What if Harry's duel to the death was funny out-of-context?

Disclaimer: All JK Rowling's. And of course, Wormtail's song belongs to Disney. (Or per se, "High School Musical II") And of course I have no affiliation with Star Wars and all of the other brands/copyrighted w/e in the story. And I do not own/am not affiliated with Ed Westwick, although I would very much like to be. ::raises eyebrows suggestively::

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Voldemort's eyes watered in pain. His head felt fit to burst. The sound was excruciating torture-

_What time is it?_

_Summertime; It's our vacation_

_What time is it_

_Party time_

_That's right, say it loud….._

"WORMTAIL!" he roared.

The music stopped and a small and hideous man appeared, clutching a bag that read 'Dunkin' Donuts". "Y-yes, my lord?" he stammered.

"Wormtail, how many times have I told you not to play the saccharine caterwauling of Zachary Efron and Vanessa Hudgens in this holy house of Satanic cruelty?"

"Wait a minute," sighed Wormtail, more than a mite confused. "Don't the terms 'holy house' and 'Satanic cruelty' contradict each other?"

"Yes, well, never mind that," snapped Voldemort. "Where have you been all morning?"

"At Dunkin' Donuts' new shop in Diagon Alley!" he replied enthusiastically. "They have the most awesome donuts. Would you like to try one, sir?" With difficulty he extracted a grubby hand from the bag. "It's chocolate-flavored-"

"Gimme that!" Voldemort snatched it from his grasp. (Evidently he never learned the kindergarten platitude, 'Sharing is caring.')

Chewing with his back teeth as usual, thereby shedding crumbs on his new throne from Knocturn Alley, he said, "Dish ish aweshome!"

Wormtail smiled weakly.

"Hey Lucius!" Voldemort shouted as a blond man with hippie-long hair came into the room. "Try one of these!" He grabbed another donut out of Wormtail's bag (cinnamon this time) and threw it at him.

Such was the powerful extent of Lucius's telekinetic powers that he had to run to catch it after it landed. (Hey, why else do you think his son can't beat Harry in a fair Quidditch game?)

"Hurry up and eat it!" Voldemort reiterated.

"But it's _dirty_ now," Lucius whined.

"I knew you were a wimp ever since you refused to eat that dead Muggle's cheek cell last December! I _knew _it! HAH!" Voldemort danced around the room with the glee of a child who has just discovered he has a snow day. "Don't eat it, see if I care. I'm off to have it out with Potter. Wormtail- if I never come back-"

Wormtail hung onto his last word, expecting touching praise. "Y-yes, my Lord?"

"Do feed Cuddlypie for me. Remember, she only likes that Japanese cat food brand I can never remember the name of."

***

"Potter!" Voldemort shouted expectantly from the shadows in the alleyway of Borgin and Burkes. Petty soul that he was (or at least, petty seventh-of-a-soul….you know what I mean), he was still angry that he couldn't fight Harry in the Beijing Olympic stadium. Merlin damn it, those United Nation administrative types have impenetrable brains.

He walked closer and saw the freak making out with someone! Someone near and dear to him! Perfect! It was time for Plan B. Kidnap the girl (was it a girl? Perhaps Potter had inherited his great-uncle's homosexual streak) and threaten Potter with THE GIRL/BOY I AM PASSIONATELY IN LOVE WITH versus THE FATE OF A BUNCH OF PEOPLE YOU REALLY DON'T HAVE CLOSE ASSOCIATIONS WITH (FORGETTING THE WEASLEYS, THAT BOOKWORM GOINGER, THE PROFESSORS (and _profesoras_….Pomona, if you are reading this, give me a call, my is 1-EVIL-INCARNATE) AT HOGWARTS MINUS OL' SNAPEY, THAT MADAM WHAT'S-HER-WEIGHT WHO MET YOU THE FIRST TIME YOU WENT TO THE LEAKY CAULDRON ACCOMPANIED BY THAT GINORMOUS OAF HAGRID THE HAG- SPEAKING OF HAGRID, DID YOU KNOW YOU CAN CUT DOWN OF 50% OF THE EARTH'S CARBON EMISSIONS WITH HIS ARSE OFF THE PLANET? OF COURSE HIS CARCASS WOULD SMELL LIKE BELLATRIX'S ARMPIT BEFORE SHE TAKES HER MONTHLY SHOWER- NOT THAT I WOULD KNOW WHAT THAT SMELLS LIKE OR ANYTHING….OH BLUBBERNUGGETS, LET'S JUST GET THIS OVER WITH).

"How tactless of you to barge in on a sentimental scene like this! Can't you see I'm busy? Please try to stay out of the way while I'm saying what appears to be my final goodbyes. Would you do me at least the common courtesy of waiting for _five _minutes before killing me? Hey….wait a minute….I completely forgot!" shouted Harry, clapping a hand to his forehead. "We'll have to reschedule this. I have an appointment with the dentist soon! Is eleven good for you?"

"Yeah. But why do you have to go to the dentist?" Voldemort huffed, staring at Harry's teeth. "Your teeth are perfect."

"Yeah, I know. But I have to get my sixth tooth taken out. It's mad at me because I'm going to die….probably, you know….and if I go down, so does it. It told all my organs, and they're all hoppin' mad now. Oh, no-" He clutched his stomach, "my liver just committed suicide." He hurried away.

***

"Hi," Harry said nervously, straightening his tie. "Um, I'm here for the Battle To The Death with Lord Voldemort, at eleven o' clock?"

The secretary, a curvy blonde who smiled at Harry perhaps a little too familiarly, took out Voldemort's schedule from a huge blue binder with the Dark Mark logo on it ('The Death Eaters! Proudly terrorizing families for years and years! Our happiness is your pain!'), and ran her finger down it. "Oh wow, he's got a busy morning: plastic surgery to look like Ed Westwick; ballet; jewelry-making classes; the monthly Death Eater brunch…."

"What is he doing right now?"

"He's having force lessons with Darth Vader. And driver's ed. At the same time."

From a distant room, Harry could hear faintly, "_So when my car refuses to start up in the morning, I can feel the conflict within!"_

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Can I just…erm…slip him a note?"

"Sure." She took out a pen and Sticky-note pad and gave it to him. Harry wrote, _Battle To The Death. Eleven o' clock. How could you forget? I'm the Boy Who Lived! I deserve a VIP reception!_

(Harry is much more egotistical in real life than he is in the books. If that makes sense to you, you've got problems.)

Harry took the paper off the pad and put it in his pocket. "Can I, erm…." Harry scratched his head. "Just…. Give this to him? I mean, I'm going to have to wait around for a while, I might as well give it to him…."

"Go right ahead," she smiled, batting her eyelashes at him. "Down two hallways and make a left. Third door."

Harry nodded. "Thanks."

"And if you ever get back alive, call me." She had really nice dimples.

Harry turned beet red. "I, erm, have a girlfriend…."

"What happens at Death Eater Headquarters _stays_ in Death Eater headquarters." She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"I…have to go. But, I mean, thanks for the offer-" Harry realized what he was saying too late. You don't _thank_ girls for their offers. " 'Bye."

She didn't seem too resentful. _I bet she gets lots of offers,_ Harry thought musingly. He knocked at the door.

"Come in," a thin, raspy, childish voice called.

Harry opened the door. It was a sterile, white room, with an odd pink table in the corner, and a poster above it with a girl and 'Juicy'. There was Voldemort, clad in the usual hideous black robe, and Darth Vader standing next to him in full regalia. Not to mention the huge, green Hummer next to them, a woman inside (official from an American DMV in Tennessee.).

"Hi, Lord Voldemort? Remember, we've got a battle to the death soon? Eleven o'clock? Please tell me you remembered."

"Yeah, I remember," he groaned. "Look, Harry, my dear, dear friend, this is really a bad time. Vader here is trying to teach me how to pick up girls-"

"How would he know how to pick up girls?" Harry said impatiently.

"He got Natalie Portman to sleep with him, didn't he?"

Harry shuffled his feet around awkwardly. "Look, Voldy, I didn't mean to bother you like this. But, I mean, we've been fighting it out quite a few times, three to be exact-"

"No it wasn't, it was _two_ times!"

"I'm counting the time when I defeated your younger self."

"Oh, yeah. Damn, was I hot then…."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, then snapped out of it. "I mean, like I was saying….we don't get to see each other anymore. What with my school and your activities….I mean, does jewelry making really take the place of me? Either I kill you or you kill me. Not a bad deal, eh?"

Voldemort stroked an invisible goatee. He looked very much like George Bush, trying to come up with the last letter of the alphabet. "Well, that does sound tempting."

"Exactly! And then we'll see each other in Hell someday, and it'll all work out."

Voldemort blushed. "That does sound nice."

"So we're set?"

"We're set. See you in a couple of hours! I just need to settle a few things before we start, okay?"

"Okay."

O0...0O

Bellatrix shook her head. "I need to tell you something before you go." Her insane eyes filled with tears.

"Okay, go for it, Bellas."

"My Lord, I love you for who you are."

Voldemort puffed out his thin chest. "A sexy, handsome, all-powerful Dark Lord?"

"No, a balding man with skin cancer."

"Ouch. Damn. That was a complete letdown."

O0...0O

Harry stepped into the huge stone chamber.

What the--

Instead of the tall, thin, quite hideous Dark Lord we all expected to see, there was an insanely hot guy with a disproportionately large head!

"Voldemort, is that you?"

"Yuh-huh," Voldemort laughed. The same raspy, hideous laugh.

Harry was really impressed. "You look _great_!"

Voldemort slicked back his now dark, full head of hair. "You really think so?"

"I _know_ so! You look just like Ed Westwick! If I was a woman, I would totally be all over you!"

"Wow," Voldemort gushed. "That is the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long, long time."

"Good to hear it, you know." Harry nodded. "That's a Savile Row suit, is it not?"

Voldemort (or 'Ed') turned around to look at the price tag of the suit, and Harry whipped out ihs wand. "_Expelliarmus_!"

Voldemort was slammed back into the wall. "No fair!"

"Yeah, well, neither is life," Harry snapped, rubbing tears angrily away from his eyes. "You killed my parents!"

"BTW, they were _asking_ for it!" Voldemort whined, making Harry double over with giggles. "James called me a--"

"A what?"

Voldemort used his wand to draw Harry closer to him, then whispered it in his ear.

"Yergh!" Harry gasped. "No wonder you killed him! I would have killed him too!"

"You know," Voldemort sighed, "Harry, you are an attractive, smart young man with a possible future in our cruel world. How about we call it a draw and quit it?"

"No! Ooh, I know."

"What?"

"We'll do a game to see who can kill the other." Harry whispered the game in Voldemort's ear. They ran back to the opposite corners of the room.

"GO!" Harry shouted, and they ran to each other, meeting in the middle.

"Rock, paper, scissors, SHOOT!" Voldemort shrieked.

Harry had rock. Voldemort had scissors.

"Why do I have to die first?" Voldemort snapped. "Fine. Get it over with."

"Okay." Harry took a deep breath. "Avada-"

But Voldemort had already collapsed, the (unbelievably hot) visage of Ed Westwick disappearing and his old body reappearing.

How did he die?

O0...0O

A nutrition specialist examined his dead body afterwards. "Well," she said, "when the body takes in fifty donuts per hour, its systems kind of begin to suffer. That's three hundred American dollars, please."

Let that be a lesson to you all, and the moral of the Harry Potterverse: Do not eat fifty donuts per hour.


End file.
